OOC: Okay, guys, this is our new commando thread. The OOC thread can be found here so direct any OOC remarks there, and there alone.

IC:

“Epsilon, commence door breach,” Commodore Fayre ordered. He signaled the other three in his unit to take their position, one accessing the terminal, another providing immediate cover, while he and the fourth were stationed back, prepared to commence sniper duties if need be. Within seconds, the door slid open, and the room inside was lit up with a heavy exchange of blaster rifle fire, as he and the three other specialized stormtroopers commenced on raiding the area of enemy opposition. There were maybe fifteen, twenty hostiles tops, in their destination, and none of them were going down without a fight.

Fayre aimed and fired twice, hitting a hostile both times on the chest, sending him collapsing to the ground, while the two in front proceeded into the room to take up stationary positions. Fayre looked at the other sniper and signaled him forward, and the trooper nodded, firing on his way in. He was next, and proceeded with an open cell of laser fire.

“Heavy fire from the southwest hallway,” another trooper reported, swinging his rifle around and firing down the hallway at the incoming hostiles.

“Keep on them,” Fayre said. “Provide him some cover.” He signaled the other stormtrooper who was in front to join in the hallway fight. In response, the troop swung his blaster rifle around and fired at the incoming hostiles.

To their own end, Fayre and his sniper comrade focused on the northern entrance, suppressing the incoming hostiles with their own heavy firepower.

“Boss, I’m running low,” his comrade reported.

“Keep on them,” Fayre encouraged. “Reload only when you’re out.”

What seemed an eternity had passed, before the room was quiet. Fayre looked around, checking for further hostiles. None were found. “Enemy terminated,” he reported, “proceeding to next sector.”

The area lights dimmed, and the four looked around momentarily, before the holo faded away, and the training was over. “Good work, Epsilon,” Fayre said after a brief second, “that had to have been a record-breaker.”

“Indeed, it was,” the voice of their commanding officer spoke as the door opened. Fayre turned and saluted to the general. “Commodore Fayre, I believe you and your team are ready for field work. You have done well to show your dedication to the Empire, and your training will pay off.”

“Yes, sir,” Fayre responded. “What will you have us do?”

“Your first task, commodore, is to suppress rebellion on the planet Kholes. I am told that the planet is a strong supporter of the rebellion, and as such it will need to be… persuaded that they are supporting terrorists.”

Fayre saluted again. “Consider it done, sir.”

“One more thing, Commodore,” the general spoke before the squad could begin moving. “Your mission is to make way for the real punishment to commence. You will depart in five standard hours. When you arrive, you will have two days to complete your objectives, before the 81st Fleet arrives… and makes the final judgment for their insolence.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Fayre said, “it’s nothing we can handle.”

“Good, I’m counting on that, Commodore.” The general left the training room, and Fayre turned to his comrades. “You heard the man,” he spoke, “we need to get geared up. We will follow standard prep procedure, so meet me at the briefing room in thirty.”

Jannson walked to the armoury to pull his assigned blaster and battery cells. The also signed out the demo charges he may have to use later on in the mission if it warranted it. Shouldering the pack, the lanky trooper moved to the room and also grabbed the additional items he may need, or the others may need of his as well. From there he walked to the briefing room where some of the others were trickling in as the half hour was slowly closing in. Selecting a seat near the back of the room Jannson dropped his gear and sorted it appropriately to when he may need it in the field.

The mission was over, and man it felt good to be a pointman. You couldn't beat the thrill of it, being the first one through the door. One moment, all's quiet, no sound, just waiting. The next, you're rushing in, catching that beautiful, terrible moment of surprise and horror on the enemy's face. They thought they expected you, thought you'd be dead before you got halfway in.

But Sergeant Strendin hadn't been killed yet. And the count of enemies suddenly robbed of their misconception seemed to grow every mission. Strendin knew that number would grow. His reflexes would always be better, his aim more precise.

After years of jumping between lower level special operations teams, it seemed his superiors had finally recognized his ability as well. Now he was with the best in the Empire, ready to kill in the service of his Emperor. To die.....dying was for those too slow or too stupid to survive. If he died, how could he ever look down upon his enemy, know the thrill of victory. No, death was not an option. Strendin would go anywhere, do anything for the oppurtunity to eliminate his enemies and feel the rush of risk and combat. For the glory of the Empire, there was no action to extreme.

The Commodore turned and said thirty minutes, with gear. Always good to be early, get one last equipment check. His mind idly realized that it had been a General talking to his superior. He had no idea what they'd said, and it didn't matter. They hadn't been talking to him. Generals were usually good news. They meant high-risk missions, and often ones outside of any scrutiny. No holds barred.

He walked off to grab his gear and join the others in the briefing room.